The World Ends Now
by DrakeXIV
Summary: 20 years have passed since Neku and his partners had turned the Underground on its head.  Since then, a new generation of Reapers has risen and revived the Reapers' Games.  It is time for another generation of Players to change Shibuya.  Reviews Welcome.
1. Return to the UG

**Note: **This is my first posted fanfiction here, but don't be light on criticism because of it. One cannot hope to become better at anything if they are not subjected to any decent criticism.

While this is based in the TWEWY Shibuya, all characters are original, although there may also be some references to the Reapers' Games portrayed in the game.

**Copyright:** Any and all things related to "The World Ends With You" does not belong to me, but to Square Enix and its respective owners.

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

Gufuu Megami reclines behind the mixing boards at A-East, overlooking the last of the custodial services leave from cleaning up after yet another concert. Honestly, what did these Shibuyans see in this... "music." This pop shit was nothing compared to the music of years past, be it the Baroque style from centuries past, the lauded Classical orchestral pieces that are still being performed, or even the tunes for the days of rock not even a century ago.

Megami sighed as he stared around the now empty venue, both admiring the serene peace yet grimacing at the unnerving silence. If only something exciting happened today.

As if on cue, a hooded figure phased into existence at the far side of the stage just as the last janitor wheeled his cart out the large bay doors. The red bandanna covered the Harrier's face as he hesitantly approached the seated figure. Megami did not say a word as he watched the Reaper approach him. As he stepped into the ray of light that shone just before where Megami sat, he looked around uneasily before deciding to finally speak up.

"Megami sama, the preparations you have inquired have been completed..."

Finally something to brighten up his ever boring day.

The youth peered past his silver windswept hair, the shine from the overhanging spotlights glistening as they struck it. The hall of A-East was empty save for him and the cloaked figure ahead of him. The silence continued as he stared at the messenger, watching sweat trickle down his target's bandanna covered face, his dull grey eyes seeing every minute action. But despite his stoic appearance, he could not help but feel slightly happy, if one could use that word to describe him.

"Very well then." Standing up, he stands and walks towards the Reaper, who winces at this movement. "Now don't be too afraid..." He pats the Reaper on the back as he passes him, a soft gust suddenly whistling through the barren stage as he made contact with the space between his wings. The Harrier was not even able to react as he crumpled to the ground.

"You won't have to suffer through this week."

He cackled softly as the unmoving body of his subordinate began to fade away, showing the signs of his Erasure. Ignoring the unimportance of the deceased, he disappeared, his jet black wings the last to be seen as he left A-East the same silence it was moments prior.

He had a Game to organize. After all, he was the Composer.

And this week's Game Master.

-/-

It had been 20 years since Kitaniji Megumi had been Erased. As the hierarchy of Reapers fell apart, Kiryuu Yoshira, "affectionately" known as Joshua by those who had the misfortune of knowing his true identity, abandoned the Underground convinced that Shibuya no longer required its services. However, there were those who felt otherwise.

A handful of Harriers banded together to reinstate the Games, as the Officers had all been killed off. It took 12 years of battles between several factions and some debate with the Angels to finally restart the Games that allowed both Reapers and Players a second chance at life.

After a generation of Reapers had fallen victim to the hands of their pawns, Gufuu Megami had succeeded in stabilizing a system of grading to allow for less fatalities. It was a Golden Age of sorts for the Underground.

But this change in the Underground was not reflected in that of the Realground. Shibuya was the same secular and superficial capital of Japan it was before, but still full of the creative minds that battled out their ideas each and every day. It was monotonously entertaining to the onlookers as they battled through the very same city for their lives.

But this peace had gone on far enough. There was static in the resonance and even the lowest of the Support Reapers could detect it.

Hell was about to fall upon Shibuya's purgatory, and things were not going to be the same...


	2. Eyes to the Skies

Okay, so you've all met this week's Game Master and Kitaniji's replacement. Time to introduce the Players.

Same ownerships as the first chapter. And thanks to some of my friends for coming up with names for the new Players.

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

The Miyashita Highway was once again stuck in gridlock, the setting sun glistening over the many windshields as the tired businessmen and women slowly made their way home in the Tokyo traffic.

But this wasn't the traditional gridlock.

If one listened closely, past the blaring of horns as those further back attempt to move the flow with sound alone, the sounds of crying could be heard lying just under the growing shriek of sirens as they themselves delved further into what might as well be a parking lot.

And just beyond the scent of diesel, there was the detectable odor of burning rubber with just a hint of blood...

-/-

Just hours prior to the traffic and the rush home, the highway was almost empty, save for a handful of larger vehicles trying to beat the oncoming gridlock and complete their deliveries. One of these was a large charter bus. It's contents: the complete third year class of Shibuya High School.

The class was alive as they closed in on the hometown, no limits to their ever growing energy, which seemed to proportionately increase as the vehicle encroached the looming center of commerce. Just hours before, they were groggily packing up their stuff as they began their descent from the mountains and their yearly class camping trip. Sure they enjoyed being able to see the stars, the barbecues, and simply relaxing, but they could not wait to return to their urban origins.

But while the entire class relished the final moments together before they returned to their classrooms and the increasing worry about entrance exams, one Aokuu Tansen sat in the rear, watching the clouds creep across the blue sky that his family was named after. He knew far too well what he was to return upon setting foot in Shibuya, so much that his friends had given up on overturning his melancholic attitude.

His eye began to wander, the sky ceased to amuse him. Turning his eyes to the road, he perused for some sort of entertainment along the roads, trying to look into the tinted windows of the other cars that rushed past. Oh how they moved with such purpose.

Tansen's eyes jumped from one car to another, not really taking note of any details. Just searching for something interesting.

Like that incoming truck. How could it move without a driver?

Wait, incoming?

-/-

It was truly a sight to see. In any normal circumstances, any vehicle coming the wrong way into oncoming traffic would make some maneuver to get out of the way. Or have a driver, for that matter.

But it was a given that this was not in any way natural. Tansen had acknowledged this. And so had his killer.

Grasped tightly in his hand was a scrap of paper. But despite his cold grip, the lone piece evidence found its way out, fluttering in the wind as it lifted up and away from the accident. As it turned in the breeze, the words emblazoned upon it were visible as it started to descend beneath the road, out of the eyes of onlooking civilians.

"Welcome to the Reaper's Game."

Before he could give himself away, someone ran away with the wind, howling in the empty crevices of the Miyashita Underpass, the tiny scrap of paper following him into the darkness.


	3. Almost Call Time

These chapters will be coming quicker in succession for the first ten or so until my schedule gets seriously clogged up.

Oh, and the POV will be changing from chapter to chapter without notice. I feel it adds a sense of organized entropy, if that makes sense. Keeps you readers on your feet.

Same copyright restrictions as before. All rights to TWEWY goes to Square Enix and thanks for OC goes to my friends.

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><p><strong>Chapter 3<strong>

_Thump_

The pain was indescribable. Her head seemed to crack with each beat, as if someone were physically trying to get inside her head. Her lithe fingers slowly crept across her scalp, interweaving itself among the strands of her long blue hair.

_Thump_

She gripped her head as if applying pressure would actually relieve her of any pain. She could hear voices around her, sounding so distant yet the clarity was equal to that of someone speaking right into her ear. Her hold softened with the pain, yet was soon brought back involuntarily with each pulse.

"Now let's see what you have to give up, Kirishima chan." It was a female voice. "Now, be a dear and stop struggling. We just need to take a peek.

Asuka hated when people were over familiar with her. But before her anger could flare up, her mind was subjected to even more pain.

_Thump_

"Now this is an interesting tidbit. Such vivid imagination," the voice said in wonder of what it perceived. "A beautiful specimen indeed..." Suddenly the voice turned harsh as a shudder ran down her spine. "And now it's mine for the taking."

As the voice continued on, Asuka could see ideas fading from her head as her eyes were clenched shut.

"Now... just... let... go!"

They were at a standstill, the images inside her mind fading in and out as if the rope in some mental game of tug of war.

_Thump_

She winced again. The images were gone. What were they about anyways? She could not remember...

_Thump_

She tried to open her eyes, to get a better look at who her offender was, but the pain in her her skull was still preventing other functions from working properly. She gripped even tighter, only to find that her hand was experiencing an acute pain as she pressed a pin into her hand.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Hands are very useful tools, especially in what you're about to do." The voice began to chuckle, but it was lost to Asuka as she was overtaken by another wave of pain.

_Thump_

The pain was still great, but now less than before. She could flicker her eyes open every once in a while now, but still could see nothing. Nothing but white.

No one was around her. She could feel no presence. Yet someone, something, had wormed their way into her psyche, searching for something.

"Ooh, this is an interesting one. She catches on quick..." A masculine voice this time. Rather warm and comforting. It began conversing with the feminine one she had grown to hate. She could pick up tiny fragments of this discourse, but they meant nothing to her and her broken mind.

The voices began fading, muddling with the rest of the others. Maybe it would be best if they would continue to talk about her. That way she wouldn't feel as lonely...

_Thump_

The voices were gone now. But the pain had not. But even then, it had reduced to a heavy throbbing.

_Thump_

The pain was dulling now and she could open her eyes. Well, she could if she hadn't started crying.

Asuka questioned the tears as she tried to rub them away from her eyes. What had been taken from her? What had caused her to break down like this?

She sniffed one more time as the last of the tears were wiped away from her face. Where exactly was she? She was in a white room of sorts, but could it really be called a room?

As she walked around, it seemed as if she was not moving at all. There were no defined walls or ceilings, much less anything else that she could use as a landmark. It seemed to go on forever in all directions.

-/-

It rather amused Megami to watch his newest sources of entertainment stumble around, trying to figure out what exactly was going on. Glancing at a far screen, he could see it was almost time.

Turning around, he found himself facing a wall of Support and Harrier Reapers, a mash of red and black sweaters and bandannas. Not like this difference in uniform made any difference to him.

He looked around at each of them and flashed a sharp canine.

"Prepare the stage. We're about to start the first piece."

With a mix of fear and admiration, each Reaper gave a short nod as the vanished successively.

Just a few more hours until it was time to raise the curtains...

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><p>Okay, this story will not be updated over the course of April. Why? Because of April Script Frenzy! Also, I'll be working on finishing my Ano Natsu de Matteru fanficiton, which is the first one to be put up here. I'd like to think of that as an achievement of sorts. Until then, any reviews on writing style and any possible plot twists to come up.<p>

Got any ideas for a character? Log onto /TheWorldEndsWithUs to offer your input. No guarantees that anything will be used, but it's better than coming up short.


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